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Taken by a Dragon, the seventh book in New York Times best-seller Felicity Heaton’s hot paranormal romance series, Eternal Mates, is now available in ebook and paperback. To celebrate the release, she’s holding a FANTASTIC GIVEAWAY at her website and sharing sneak peeks of the book.

Here’s more about Taken by a Dragon, including an excerpt from this paranormal romance novel.

Taken by a Dragon is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and other retailers. Also available in paperback. Find the links to your preferred retailer at: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/taken-by-a-dragon-paranormal-romance-novel.phpPossessed by a need to save a beautiful Amazon warrior from the vision he witnessed, Loke snatched her from the midst of the battle between the Third and Fifth realm of the demons, and carried her to his home deep in the black mountains of Hell to protect her. But as the fierce little female awakens, he finds she’s anything but grateful, and his dragon instincts roar to life to warn she might be more to him than an enemy—she might be his fated female.

Anais remembers meeting a handsome warrior in the heat of battle, a man who was her enemy but who looked at her with eyes that held dark heat and wicked promises. When she wakes to find that same dragon shifter has taken her captive, desire is the last thing on her mind, but escaping him to return to Archangel, the hunter organisation she works for, sounds less than appealing when he reveals the reason he took her—to stop her from dying.

Can Loke protect Anais from the dangers of his realm and how far will he go to save her from the future he keeps witnessing? Can Anais resist the fierce attraction that burns between them as hot as fire and stay true to Archangel or will her heart be taken by the dragon?

Excerpt

Taking the little Amazon from the battlefield might not have been the best decision he had ever made, but Loke couldn’t change it now. He could only regret it, and even then he couldn’t manage to bring himself to truly feel bad about what he had done. He only regretted frightening her. It hadn’t been his intention.

He’d had only a split-second in which to absorb the vision he had seen of her blood-soaked and dying on that grim demonic land and consider what path to take in response.

Leaving her to die hadn’t even crossed his mind.

That troubled him.

As she had stated so vehemently, they were enemies. Enemies fought and died on battlefields all the time in this realm, hundreds of them marching to their deaths each day. He had stormed into the midst of the war between the Third and Fifth Realms knowing that fate might await him, just as she had.

Yet he hadn’t been able to see her die without reacting to it on a visceral level, one that had seized control of him and demanded he do whatever it took to stop her death from happening.

That same primal reaction flooded him whenever he recounted what he had seen, seeing flashes of her covered with blood overlaid onto her where she stood just metres from him, her pretty face set in grim dark lines that warned she was considering kicking him in a most delicate place again. His balls throbbed with the memory and he decided to keep his distance from her, at least until she had calmed down and felt more comfortable with her surroundings and situation.

Another thing he should have considered before snatching her.

Females didn’t like it when males seized hold of them and took them somewhere against their will. They had a tendency to think the vilest things of the male who had taken them, presuming they meant them harm. It was a reasonable assumption, he supposed, but one he wished she hadn’t pinned on him.

He had no intention of harming her.

He only wanted to protect her.

Once he was certain that whatever he had witnessed couldn’t come to pass, something that depended on him receiving word that the war was over between the Third and Fifth Realms of the demons, he would keep his vow and return her to her people.

Mortals.

He still refused to believe that she belonged to that race. She was too strong and brave to be a mortal.

He had never met one, but he had been told through the tales of the elders and his parents that mortals were a weak species without any redeeming qualities. Fodder for the dragons who had been old enough to walk the mortal realm and fly in their blue skies.

Loke looked up at the black ceiling of his cave, seeing beyond it to the dark grey sky of Hell, and then beyond that to imagine how blue and clear those skies would be.

Would they be spotted with white cloud as his mother had told him? She had heard the tales from her parents, dragons who had been to that world. They had flown in those skies. They had spoken to her of wondrous things. Thunderstorms. Rain. Sunsets.

The moonrise over a glittering sea.

A shiver ran down his spine and he reluctantly dragged his focus away from fantasising about a place he could never see with his own eyes. The little Amazon was watching him again, no doubt studying him for an opening she could use to reach his knife. They had struck a bargain, but he wasn’t about to lower his guard around her.

He wanted to believe she would keep her word, but she had yet to trust him and therefore he couldn’t trust her. Until she felt certain he wouldn’t harm her, she would keep attempting to escape.

He couldn’t blame her.

He didn’t see her as a captive, but he knew that was how she viewed herself and her situation. He wasn’t sure how to convince her otherwise either. Would making her more comfortable go some way towards assuaging her fears?

“Hungry?” he said and she lifted her head, causing the rogue strands of her blonde hair to brush her cheeks.

Her dark blue eyes held his, no trace of fear in them now. They assessed him, pierced him, leaving no part of him untouched by her scrutiny. She was sceptical of his offer.

“I will not poison you.” Her tongue was difficult for him, but he had studied it as all good dragons did, although he hadn’t needed to use it in a long time. It had been many centuries since he had bothered to trade with the people of the free realm or the elves. He had kept himself up to date with her language though, in case he needed it to communicate with others who didn’t speak dragon or demon.

“I was more concerned about you drugging me.” She pinned him with a glare he supposed was meant to be threatening.

It just made her look more beautiful.

His fierce little Amazon.

Definitely not a mere mortal.

A flash of her covered in blood and bleeding out overlaid onto her and hit him hard, knocking him back a step.

She scowled at him, but didn’t ask what was wrong, even though he could see that she wanted to voice that question.

He pressed his right hand to his forehead and cursed the aftershocks of the vision. Normally they died down by now, leaving him with only a memory of what he had seen. Almost a day had passed since he had witnessed her death. Something was wrong.

“I do not intend to drug you,” he muttered and grimaced as a swift hot stab pierced his head like a burning needle. It had been a long time since the visions had given him pain. His concern grew. “Sit.”

He waved to the pile of dark furs near the fire and she folded her arms across her chest and tipped her chin up. Perhaps he had been a little blunt and commanding, but the ache in his head and the aftershocks of his vision were wearing his patience down and his temper was getting the better of him. He drew in a slow breath and blew it out, attempting to ease his frustration and clear his mind so he could proceed without upsetting the female further or giving her reason to attack him again.

She eyed him, her blue eyes narrowed and her rosy lips compressed into a thin hard line.

He would have to learn to tread carefully around her. He wasn’t used to company, or females outside of his kind. Female dragons could be stubborn, but often deferred to the males.

He had a feeling that his little Amazon wouldn’t be submitting to him.

“Please, make yourself comfortable.” He gestured to the furs again, hoping she would do as he had asked this time.

She huffed and looked away from him, towards the back of the cave. “Is this your home?”

He looked around the wide cave. “Yes.”

Her blue gaze roamed it, sweeping over everything in it, which didn’t take her long. She looked at the fire in the middle of the widest section of the cave, at the stack of wood he kept against the wall behind him, his meagre stack of books beside it and then at the furs on her side.

“It’s not very comfortable. How can you live in such a basic place?”

Basic?

He studied his belongings again, a frown etching itself on his brow as he realised that she thought his home was far below her standard of comfortable. Basic. It grated on him. He had never considered his home lacking before, not in all the centuries he had lived here, but in only a handful of seconds she had made him feel it was and had made him question it. He didn’t like that.

He had everything he needed in his home.

Yet she had made him feel it was lacking, and therefore he was lacking too.

He growled now, flashing his teeth at her, but kept them from changing as they wanted to. He wanted her quiet, not frightened.

“Touchy.” She meandered around his scant belongings, curling her lip at the furs, as if the thought of sitting on them disgusted her.

“Sit or do not sit. I do not care.” He folded his arms across his bare chest and glared at her.

She shot him a smile that was victorious and rubbed him the wrong way. She meant to provoke him. An unwise course of action. Provoking a dragon was not a clever thing to do.

“I’ll stand, thanks.” She nudged one of the rocks that surrounded the fire with her black boot.

She wore clothing as the others of her kind had. Black trousers, boots and a top that hugged her curves and her breasts. He kept his gaze away from them, unwilling to give her more reasons to prod and poke at him.

Her sigh filled the silence.

He had never heard one more overwhelmingly and intentionally dissatisfied sounding.

Loke scowled at her. He had no modern comforts to offer her, but she didn’t need to rub it in his face and make him feel he was a lesser male because of it. He had nothing he could give her that would satisfy her. He felt sure of that. No downy bed in a separate room. No bathing facilities other than the thermal pools he kept stocked with water.

Her blue gaze flitted to him and then skipped beyond him, towards the mouth of the cave.

He moved on instinct, blocking her view of the outside world, driven by the deep possessiveness that lived within him. Her eyes lifted to his face, locking with his again, stirring that possessiveness and breathing more life into it, making it grow stronger. It was his nature speaking, that was all. It had nothing to do with her beguiling beauty.

He was a dragon.

Dragons were all possessive creatures.

They were highly territorial too, and that was the reason he didn’t want her to venture near the cave mouth.

She couldn’t get down from the ledge, but another dragon might see her. That dragon might fight him for her or take her from him. He growled under his breath at the thought, his teeth all sharpening in response to the intense wave of emotions that rocked him—rage, fear, possessiveness.

The female looked at him, her blue eyes a little wider than normal as they met his, captivating him. Quelling his anger and fear. Those emotions instantly evaporated, leaving only the raw sense of possessiveness behind. She had looked at him that way on the battlefield. Right into his eyes. She had seen him. He had felt it then. She had really seen him. Not a glance or a fleeting look that only touched the surface.

She had looked right down into his soul, just as she was now.

She was a brave little female. He had never met a braver one.

Not even the female dragons at the village could contend with her.

“What do they call you?” he said, his voice distant to his ears as he stared deep into her eyes, picking out every fleck of black that marred deepest blue.

Would the skies of her world look like that? Would they be so deep and rich, or lighter?

Was she really mortal?

Could she answer his countless questions about her world and sate his desire to know more about the land his people had left behind, never to return?

“Anais.” She offered it with a slight smile that barely curved her rosy lips but added a touch of warmth to her expression, softening the harder edges of her eyes and entrancing him.

Not a trace of fear touched her gaze or her scent now. She flitted from afraid to calm, dancing between the emotions so quickly that he couldn’t keep up. He wasn’t sure how long this calm phase would last, but he meant to do all in his power to make it remain. He wanted her to feel at ease and to begin to trust him.

“They call me Loke.” He offered it with a smile of his own, one that felt foreign to him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled.

“Like the mischievous Norse god?”

His smile stretched a little wider and he shook his head. “My name ends with an E in your tongue.”

She raked her eyes up him, from his bare feet, over his legs to his torso. It slowed from there, drifting at a leisurely pace, one that stirred heat within him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had experienced that either. What was it about this female that had him quick to smile and even quicker to hunger for her touch?

Her gaze finally reached his face and narrowed. “You are definitely mischievous.”

Before he could gather his wits to respond by saying that if he was mischievous then she was mysterious because he couldn’t get a firm grasp on her when she bounced so swiftly between polar emotions, she turned away and headed towards the back of the cave, her boots loud on the black rocky ground.

“Where do you go?” He started to follow her when she made it past the fire and didn’t stop walking.

She looked back over her slender shoulder at him, a wicked twinkle in her eyes. “You only forbade me from going near the mouth of the cave. You didn’t set out any ground rules about the back of it. I’m going to see where the tunnel goes.”

“It goes to chambers. Some where I store meats and things I have gathered, others where I bathe, and some go deep into the mountain to places where dangerous things lurk.” He frowned when she pouted, as if he had spoiled her fun.

Perhaps he had.

Perhaps he had also ruined a chance for her to become more comfortable in his home, and around him.

Would she like to see the rest of the cave?

He could join her in her adventure, although he supposed that would make it more like a tour. He didn’t want her to go alone though. He hadn’t lied about the dangerous things that lurked in the tunnels. They ran deep into the mountain and sometimes fissures opened where creatures could get into them. He had disturbed a nest of Hell beasts down one of the paths before and had barely come away with his life. The tunnels were too small for him to transform in, placing him at a disadvantage against the vicious creatures in close quarters combat.

“So none lead to a big hoard of treasure then?” The wickedness was back in her blue eyes and she flicked her blonde ponytail over her other shoulder as she came to face him.

She toyed with the ends of her hair as he frowned at her, trying to unravel the riddle of her, distracting him with a sudden desire to do that. He wanted to feel the strands wrapping around his fingers before slipping from them. Would they feel silky? He bit back a groan at the jolt of pleasure that ran through him as he imagined they would and brought his focus back to her and what she had said.

She meant to mock him again.

Loke huffed and grudgingly admitted it. “I have a little gold.”

Taken by a Dragon is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and other retailers. Also available in paperback.

Author Bio

Felicity Heaton is a New York Times and USA Today international best-selling author writing passionate paranormal romance books. In her books, she creates detailed worlds, twisting plots, mind-blowing action, intense emotion and heart-stopping romances with leading men that vary from dark deadly vampires to sexy shape-shifters and wicked werewolves, to sinful angels and hot demons! If you’re a fan of paranormal romance authors Lara Adrian, J R Ward, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Gena Showalter and Christine Feehan then you will enjoy her books too.

If you love your angels a little dark and wicked, the best-selling Her Angel series is for you. If you like strong, powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm series or any of her stand-alone vampire romance books. If you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate and erotic then try the best-selling Vampire Erotic Theatre series. Or if you prefer huge detailed worlds filled with hot-blooded alpha males in every species, from elves to demons to dragons to shifters and angels, then take a look at the new Eternal Mates series.

If you want to know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:

Bitten by a Hellcat, the sixth book in New York Times best-seller Felicity Heaton’s hot paranormal romance series, Eternal Mates, is now available in ebook and paperback. To celebrate the release, she’s holding a FANTASTIC GIVEAWAY at her website and sharing sneak peeks of the book. This book works as a standalone, so it’s perfect for those new to the series too.

Here’s more about Bitten by a Hellcat, including an excerpt from this paranormal romance book.

The sole remaining member of the most famous shifter hunter family in history, Owen Nightingale is a mercenary and a man with a secret held in his closely guarded heart, but when a beautiful rare shifter catches his eye and offers him a job, he has the feeling he’ll be the one paying for helping her—with his heart.

Cait is in a spot of trouble with a capital T. A male hellcat has set his sights on claiming her and she’s one kitty who doesn’t want a collar. When she meets a dark, alluring and mysterious hunter, she sees a chance to rid herself of the male, but the price Owen sets and the fierce passion that burns white-hot between them lures her dangerously under his seductive spell.

Can Owen discover the true intent of the male hellcat and stop Cait from falling into his hands? And can Cait retain control as the heat of desire burns between her and Owen, or will a reckless moment seal both of their fates forever?

Excerpt

“Done,” he said and she opened her eyes and turned to face him, surprised at how quickly he had dressed.

Or hadn’t dressed.

He stood before her wearing only a pair of black jeans that rode low on his hips, rubbing a small pale towel across his short hair.

Cait noticed something other than how honed and godly his body was as she looked at him this time.

She noticed all the dark bruises and the cuts that littered his arms, shoulders, sides and even parts of his stomach. He turned away from her, revealing a particularly nasty bruise on his left side, just above his bottom. She drifted towards him, staring at it and reaching out to touch it.

Owen spun to face her.

Cait jumped and snatched her hand back, her eyes leaping up to meet his pale green ones.

“Where did you get all the bruises?” she said, trying to make it clear she’d had a reason for wanting to touch him, one other than the desire pulsing through her again, steadily building back up towards a crescendo.

“The demon a few fae hired me to kill didn’t take kindly to my opinion that he should die for terrorising them. We had a little bit of an argument about it a couple of days ago.” Owen looked himself over and prodded a small mottled bruise on the ridge of muscle that curved over his right hip. “They’ll be gone in a few days. I just have to keep applying my salve to them.”

She was about to ask what he meant by that when he leaned across to his right, picked up a small black glass pot from the wooden dressing table beside him and opened it.

Cait flinched away as the smell hit her.

Aniseed.

She pulled a face at it. She never had liked that smell.

“It doesn’t stink as bad once it’s on,” Owen said, his deep voice curling around her, making her forget the offensive smell of his salve for a moment.

She looked up at him to find him staring at the pot, a flicker of something in his green eyes. When they leaped back to her, darkening a degree, revealing his desire again, she realised why he was concerned about the smell, and her reaction to it.

The heat inside her exploded into an inferno again, burning up her blood as she stared into his eyes, filled with a need to take him up on his silent offer.

She wanted her taste of him now.

Gods, she hoped he was right and the salve did smell less disgusting when it was on him.

She wanted to tell him to forget it, at least for a while. She could apply it later, massaging it into his bruises and wounds while he lay on the bed, spent from their lovemaking.

He looked as if he was considering such a thing himself but then sighed wearily and stuck his right index finger into the gunk.

He smoothed a little of it over each of his cuts and his bruises, and she couldn’t help but smile when she noticed he was doing his best not to grimace as he rubbed it in. Trying to look strong and manly in her presence? It reassured her a little. After all, she had been worried about appearing like a weak kitten in need of coddling too.

Owen twisted at the waist and grimaced, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth.

“I can do your back.” The words were out of her lips before she could consider what she was offering.

It wasn’t the smell of the salve that had her regretting her offer as he nodded, because it smelled oddly sweet now that it was on him, as if the properties of it had changed somehow.

It was the fact that she was about to touch him, running her fingers over his bare flesh while standing in the middle of his bedroom.

Owen held the black glass pot out to her and Cait took it, stared at it and drew in a deep breath to steady herself as he turned his back to her. There were more bruises on his back, long deep ones that looked as if the demon had thrown him into something unbreakable. In amidst the bruises were slashes, easily recognisable as claw marks. They were scabbed over and healing, but they must have been deep when they had happened.

She looked down at the creamy salve, wondering what magic was in the concoction, because nothing made by human hands could heal such terrible wounds in such a short space of time.

How many times had he relied on this same potion to heal his wounds for him? How many times had he been beaten this badly, or worse, by his enemies?

How badly injured would he end up when he took care of Marius for her?

She gripped the pot and stared at it, her stomach turning to lead and dragging her insides down to her feet. She shook her head. She couldn’t ask Owen to handle the male for her. Owen was strong, but the hellcat was stronger. She knew from first-hand experience just how strong that male was.

What had she been thinking?

“Cait?” The sound of her name rolling off Owen’s tongue in his deep steady voice soothed her.

Owen wasn’t facing Marius alone. She would be there with him and she had to have faith in him, as she had back in the bar, before her attraction to him had begun to place doubts in her head and fear in her heart.

“Sorry,” she muttered again and stuck her fingers into the pot.

The salve was cold, strangely so, and the smell changed from aniseed when it was on her fingers to a sweet sugary smell when she rubbed it into the first bruise on his back, a deep one that covered half of his left shoulder-blade.

“I don’t always end up looking like a Friesian cow.” There was a warm note in Owen’s voice that suggested he was making a joke but she didn’t get it.

She smoothed more of the salve into the bruise, keeping her strokes light so she didn’t hurt him. “A cow?”

“A Friesian cow.” He looked back over his shoulder at her, his green eyes bright with his stunning smile. The light in them faded as he frowned. “You have no clue what I’m talking about, do you?”

She shook her head.

He sighed and turned away from her again. “It’s a black and white cow… like a white cow with black splotches on it… you do know what a cow is?”

Cait chuckled. “Of course. I’ve seen cows. I didn’t realise they had special names. You’re referencing this cow in relation to your black marks against your paler skin.”

He heaved another sigh. “When you say it like that, it doesn’t sound funny.”

Cait dipped her fingers back into the pot, scooped a small quantity of the creamy gunk up, and applied it to a series of smaller bruises and cuts that dotted his right shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to make it not funny… I’m not sure this is really something you should laugh about either.” Her work slowed as she again thought about how a demon had done this much damage to him.

The male hellcat had hurt her and he was stronger than a measly demon. What would he do to Owen?

“If you keep doubting me… we’re going to fall out.” Those words leaving Owen’s lips in a cold dead voice sent a chill through her.

How did he know whenever she was doubting him? Did he have abilities that were beyond human? Could he sense things as fae and demons could? She had the feeling it had been more than what she had said that had alerted him to her thoughts about him losing to the male.

Owen looked back over his shoulder at her again, his green eyes as dark as they had been when he had eyed Marius. Another shiver went through her when they met hers, holding her immobile.

“I can handle your male.” The certainty in those five words and in his eyes gave her some relief, but riled her at the same time.

“He isn’t my male.” She looked away from him. “I don’t have a male.”

“Don’t have and don’t want?”

Cait let his words hang in the air between them as she dealt with another of his bruises, focusing on it to avoid his questioning gaze.

Her movements slowed as he continued to stare at her, her fingers drifting across his skin and awareness of how close they were to each other rising inside her. Heat rose with it, bringing her desire and need back to inferno level, until each tiny stroke of her fingers over his flesh had arcs of electric tingles rushing over her skin.

Her breathing quickened, the air too thick and heavy, making her head spin as she struggled to focus on her task and not how good he felt beneath her questing fingers.

She swept those fingers over the bruise on his left side, feeling his heat radiating from him and through her.

“Cait.” His deep voice scraped low, a husky whisper that sent a thrill coursing through her and brought all of her focus upwards as he slowly turned to face her.

She lifted her eyes to his, her fingers resting against his side, desire pulsing through her.

Passion that flared white-hot as she waited to see what he would do.

He wanted her. She knew that. She had felt it back at the club and she felt it clearer now, a deep primal awareness that he desired her. Fiercely needed her.

She wanted him too.

Something about him was irresistible.

It had drawn her to him from the moment she had set eyes on him and she had been burning for him ever since, on fire with a need to feel his arms around her and his lips claiming hers.

His green eyes darkened, narrowing hungrily on hers.

Cait breathed harder, anticipation swirling through her and stealing the air from her lungs as she willed him to surrender to his need, to give in to the passion beating in his veins and drumming in his heart because she felt it too. It consumed her. Controlled her.

And she couldn’t deny it any longer.

The pot fell from her fingers and smashed on the wooden floor.

Bitten by a Hellcat is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and other retailers. Also available in paperback.

Author Bio

Felicity Heaton is a New York Times and USA Today international best-selling author writing passionate paranormal romance books. In her books, she creates detailed worlds, twisting plots, mind-blowing action, intense emotion and heart-stopping romances with leading men that vary from dark deadly vampires to sexy shape-shifters and wicked werewolves, to sinful angels and hot demons! If you’re a fan of paranormal romance authors Lara Adrian, J R Ward, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Gena Showalter and Christine Feehan then you will enjoy her books too.

If you love your angels a little dark and wicked, the best-selling Her Angel series is for you. If you like strong, powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm series or any of her stand-alone vampire romance books. If you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate and erotic then try the best-selling Vampire Erotic Theatre series. Or if you prefer huge detailed worlds filled with hot-blooded alpha males in every species, from elves to demons to dragons to shifters and angels, then take a look at the new Eternal Mates series.

If you want to know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:

Craved by an Alpha, the fifth book in New York Times best-seller Felicity Heaton’s hot paranormal romance series, Eternal Mates, is now available in ebook and paperback. To celebrate the release, she’s holding a FANTASTIC GIVEAWAY at her website and sharing sneak peeks of the book.

Here’s more about Craved by an Alpha, including an excerpt from this paranormal romance novel.

Having turned his back on his snow leopard pride, Cavanaugh has been counting the days until he’s free of a role he never wanted—one that separated him from his fated female and stands between him and the future he craves with her.

Just days from the night he will finally be free to be with the low-ranking beauty who stole his heart, she walks back into his life and threatens to destroy everything he’s worked towards in the five long years they’ve been apart.

Eloise has travelled across continents searching for the male who was once her best friend and so much more to her, but was now her pride’s true alpha. Desperate to fulfil a promise to her kin to save them from the tyrant he left in charge, she convinces Cavanaugh to return to his pride, but as they journey to Bhutan, doubts bloom and old feelings resurface, tearing her between duty and her deepest desires and impossible dreams.

Will Eloise be able to resist the burning need that Cavanaugh reignites in her and remember her place in the pride? And can Cavanaugh find a way to save his kin and claim the future he craves with the woman he loves?

Excerpt

Cavanaugh looked up through the trees, checking the light level. It had taken most of the day to find a vehicle, purchase all the equipment they needed, and drive the seven hours up the track. In just over an hour, it would be dark. They would have to stop and make camp. Near to the river would be the best place to set up the small tent he had purchased and start a fire, but also the most dangerous. Countless predators made the forest their home, big cats among them, and many of them hunted along the water where their prey would come to drink.

He could smell them in the area. Tigers. Leopards. Even clouded leopards. None of them would take well to him and Eloise being in their territory. The tigers were the biggest threat. They had been known to take human prey in the past, when times had been tough for them, and had spread their territory far and wide, even up to altitude in places, clashing with the territory of the snow leopards.

The trail ended two miles deeper into the forest, at a large pool that glittered at the base of a short waterfall. This was as far as the locals went, coming here to try their luck fishing. He had met a few once, years ago, on his way down from the mountain. They hadn’t seemed surprised to see someone coming from a direction where nature prevailed and no humans ventured. He suspected that the legends the locals believed in were based on his pride and those legends were woven deep into their traditions and religion. They had known what he was, but they respected him and his kind.

Eloise distracted him from his memories by clambering up the enormous boulders that formed a wall ahead of him. He stared at her backside, cupped tightly in her trekking trousers. He might have purchased a size smaller than he should have, but he had known she wouldn’t dare complain about how tight and revealing they were. It was the first time he felt that being an alpha was a perk, not a punishment.

She leaped to another boulder and scaled the next one with ease.

Snow leopard shifters were agile climbers in both of their forms, and he had always loved climbing with her, scaling the dangerous mountains that surrounded the village in the hidden valley high above this forest. There were ledges on the mountains that offered the most incredible and breathtaking views across the Himalayas.

Her boot slipped and he was behind her in a single leap, his hands pressed against her backside to stop her from falling. She gasped and turned wide honey-coloured eyes on him, a blush climbing her cheeks before she recovered and stole her body from his grasp, ruining the moment. She hauled herself back towards the rocks and up them, away from his hands.

Hands that ached to touch her again, to explore every inch of her at his leisure, together with his lips.

“Damned new boots,” she muttered and was more careful as she clambered up the rocks, placing each foot with caution.

When she had reached the top, she looked back down at him. He grinned and ascended the treacherous rocks in a few leaps, using his superior strength and agility to make easy work of it. She huffed under her breath and stalked on ahead of him, evidently not impressed by his display of manliness.

Cavanaugh shrugged and followed her, his senses split between her and their surroundings now that they were heading deeper into the forest, away from the farmland and the humans.

He closed the distance between them as the terrain turned hilly, the ascents and descents steep and muddy, making it tough going as they continued to track the river through the forest covering the valley. He helped her as much as she would let him, growing increasingly frustrated whenever she refused to accept his assistance. Back in the day, she had never hesitated to take his hand when he had offered it or his help whenever she had slipped. Was it because she could only see him as her pride’s alpha now?

He wasn’t that male, not when he was with her.

He was just Cavanaugh.

The air grew humid as they followed the river. The evening light danced across its rippling surface, making it look like liquid gold. He drew in a deep breath, catching the scents of the animals and all the different plants and trees, refreshing his memory of this place he had called home for a century.

It was beautiful, but tarnished now.

His reason for being here, and everything that had happened, had ruined it for him, stealing something away from the stunning scenery. The mountains called to him, rising high above the forest that surrounded him, their snow-capped peaks piercing the golden sky, but he no longer felt the deep need to answer that call, to rush up to their pinnacles and see the world as they did.

He was happier down here, in the forest.

Truthfully, he was happier miles away from this place that no longer felt like his home.

Eloise looked back at him, the sight of her soothing him and chasing away his heavy thoughts.

The forest drew back from the river ahead of them, leaving a wide earth bank on their side that gave way to pebbles and then rounded stones by the water.

“We can camp ahead.” Cavanaugh scanned the forest with his senses. “I’ve camped here a few times.”

It smelled different now though. The territories of the cats that made this area their home had shifted.

Movement across the river caught his eye and his gaze snapped there, his senses on high alert. A small leopard cat broke cover, spotted him and dashed back into the scrub. They weren’t much bigger than a domestic cat and were definitely not a threat to him and Eloise.

She set her backpack down in the middle of the dirt bank and rubbed her shoulders. He would do that for her if she asked. Gods, he would do it for her if she didn’t ask. He would do anything to get his hands back on her and break down the damned wall that stood between them. He dumped his backpack and stretched, a sliver of pleasure flowing through him as he loosened up. He wasn’t looking forward to the ascent ahead of him, not with so much gear. He would have to stash most of it somewhere rather than trying to carry it up the mountain path.

His gaze drifted along the wide slow river, hopping from boulder to boulder that dotted the water, and then up over the trees to the mountains in the distance ahead of him.

He was running out of time.

There had to be a way to get Eloise to look at him and see him as the man she had known all her life, the one who belonged to her if she would have him, and not her alpha.

He sighed and set the tent up as he pondered that, and then left her to handle the fire as he looked at the river. It had been a hard trek and he needed to wash up before settling down to a delicious meal of protein bars. The crystal clear water was just too inviting to resist.

He wanted to cool off with a swim.

If all went to plan, Eloise would join him.

Craved by an Alpha is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and other retailers. Also available in paperback.

Author Bio

Felicity Heaton is a New York Times and USA Today international best-selling author writing passionate paranormal romance books. In her books, she creates detailed worlds, twisting plots, mind-blowing action, intense emotion and heart-stopping romances with leading men that vary from dark deadly vampires to sexy shape-shifters and wicked werewolves, to sinful angels and hot demons! If you’re a fan of paranormal romance authors Lara Adrian, J R Ward, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Gena Showalter and Christine Feehan then you will enjoy her books too.

If you love your angels a little dark and wicked, the best-selling Her Angel series is for you. If you like strong, powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm series or any of her stand-alone vampire romance books. If you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate and erotic then try the best-selling Vampire Erotic Theatre series. Or if you prefer huge detailed worlds filled with hot-blooded alpha males in every species, from elves to demons to dragons to shifters and angels, then take a look at the new Eternal Mates series.

If you want to know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:

Hunted by a Jaguar, the fourth book in New York Times best-seller Felicity Heaton’s hot paranormal romance series, Eternal Mates, is now available in ebook and paperback. To celebrate the release, she’s holding a FANTASTIC GIVEAWAY at her website and sharing sneak peeks of the book.

Here’s more about Hunted by a Jaguar, including an excerpt from this paranormal romance novel.

Hunted by a Jaguar is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and other retailers. Also available in paperback. Find the links to your preferred retailer at: http://www.felicityheaton.co.uk/hunted-by-a-jaguar-paranormal-romance-novel.phpA jaguar shifter with a dark secret, Kyter has spent his entire life running from his demons. When a tragedy takes him back to his pride’s village, he is set on a path of vengeance that will see him collide with the terrible ghosts of his past and a beautiful vision of his future.

Iolanthe deals in finding artefacts for discerning clients, but this time her client is one of the deadliest men in Hell and her mission has the highest stakes imaginable. Failure is not an option when your life is on the line, but things take a dangerous turn when she crosses paths with a handsome and mysterious male on the hunt for the same artefact—a male who declares she is his eternal mate.

Can Iolanthe resist Kyter’s wicked allure and find the artefact before he does? Can Kyter face his demons and win the heart of his fated female? Or will this deadly game of cat and mouse claim both of their lives?

Excerpt

The air was thicker than he remembered. Like soup in his lungs. Moist. Hot. Stifling. Kyter tipped his head back and inhaled, dragging it over his teeth. It carried a thousand scents unique to the rainforest, smells he hadn’t experienced in centuries.

A blend of sounds teased his ears, a cacophony of insects chirruping, birds singing and primates calling. His jaguar side shifted beneath his skin, a product of his restlessness. He wanted to let the change come over him and take to the trees, prowling along the branches to stalk the monkeys and the parrots. A band of bright blue and yellow macaws broke cover, a stunning flash of colour against the green canopy as they flew to another tree.

Kyter drew in another deep breath, holding this one in his lungs, and calmed himself, shaking off his nerves and trying to see the beauty of this place he had once called home.

The trees loomed above him. The monkey chatter mocked him. Everything closed in and his throat closed with it. A deep need to turn back and escape this place and what awaited him at the end of his journey filled him. He exhaled hard and pushed onwards, taking another step towards his destination. Each step was more difficult than the last. Each stride brought him closer to a place he had vowed he would never set foot in again.

But he had to be here.

He had set out from London a week ago, the same night he had received the news via a call from a satellite phone. That news had knocked his entire world off kilter and left him reeling in the middle of his nightclub, numbed from his skin down to his soul.

He had travelled non-stop since then. Through every plane journey that had carried him halfway across the world, all the boats that had taken him down the mighty Amazon river and its tributaries, and every step he had trod during his trek into the rainforest that had followed, what had brought him back here hadn’t sunk in.

He still felt numb.

He scrubbed a cloth around the back of his neck, wiping the sweat away, and shoved it into the back pocket of his black combat trousers as he took another hard step closer to his destination.

The forest closed in again, covering his tracks for him, even though he had made sure to conceal his path so humans couldn’t find the village nestled far from civilisation. Protected by nature.

Kyter trekked up a steep incline, the path becoming difficult. He struggled to lift his mud-caked boots over each root that threatened to trip him and clung to each tree he could reach, using them as support as he pushed onwards, battling through the fatigue.

The pack on his back was soaked from the sweat that rolled down his spine beneath his black tank. He had emptied his canteen a day back but hadn’t stopped for water. Just as he hadn’t stopped to rest nor to sleep since he had left the river behind two days ago. He couldn’t stop.

Not until he saw the truth for himself.

He wouldn’t believe a thing until then.

He wouldn’t feel a thing until then.

Not how his feet throbbed and burned from the non-stop trek across harsh terrain. Not the sting of a hundred insect bites. Not the ache in his bones.

Not the agony ripping his heart to pieces.

He reached a vertical wall of mud and bushes, and grabbed a thick root, using it to haul himself up the final few feet of the hill. He planted one knee up on the bank above him and grunted as he pulled his bodyweight up and set his other knee down on the ridge.

Kyter dragged himself onto his feet and clutched the tree to his left for support.

The scars on his back ached as he stared down the other side of the hill, through the trees and the scrub to the clearing in the valley.

The village of his pride.

He couldn’t call them family. They had never been family to him.

They had made sure of that, treating him as the outcast he was, ensuring he felt it every day of his long existence. He breathed hard, fighting the memories of this place as they surfaced, shoving them back down inside where they belonged. They had no place in his life now. He had banished them and his pain years ago, or at least he had tried. His fingers tensed against the tree trunk, his claws emerging and tearing through the thin bark to the wood beneath. It curled beneath his fingers, the fresh scent of it filling the air for a moment.

No. They weren’t his family.

If the news was true, then he had no family now.

Kyter pressed a hand to his soaked chest and dug his nails into his pectorals. He ground his teeth and chuffed, the short coughing noise escaping him before he could stop it.

No one would answer that call now.

The backs of his eyes burned and he growled, baring his emerging fangs as he stared down at the village, a flicker of grief piercing the numbness within him and setting fire to his heart.

The smaller wooden single-storey buildings stood on stilts on the earth, without glass in their windows and only shutters to close over them. The thatched roofs hung wide from the sides of each building, providing shelter for the windows and the long porch across the front. They looked so basic to him now, with none of the modern conveniences he enjoyed back in England at his nightclub in London, but one had been his home for most of his life, and he remembered that he had been happy at times.

His golden gaze sought the small residence on the outskirts of the village to his right, near trees that he had climbed as a cub and still bore his claw marks from when he had matured and had raked them to scent them. The house looked so small now. Desolate and lonely. Cold.

As cold as he felt inside.

Kyter straightened and took hold of the straps of his backpack. He sucked down another deep breath into too-tight lungs as his gaze swung back to the main area of the village, to the largest building that stood proudly in the centre of a wide open area. He avoided looking at the left side of the building, where a thick wooden column rose from the earth, and focused on his kin gathered in the square.

They filled the area, encircling a sombre scene that made his numb yet burning heart ache. He had no choice but to believe what he had been told now that it was right before him. Many of the buildings were damaged and, in the middle of the circle of his kin, bodies lay on individual stacks of logs and a cushion of palm leaves, all of them dressed in brightly coloured ceremonial tunics.

The flicker of fire in his chest exploded into an inferno that coursed through his veins and ignited his emotions, bringing them back full force, so powerful that they overwhelmed him. He wanted to throw his head back and roar out his fury and his pain as it ravaged him, but he refused to break with tradition even when he despised it.

Instead of unleashing his rage and grief, he clenched his trembling fists at his sides and vowed that he would hunt down whoever had done this. They would pay. By all that was dark and unholy within him—they would pay.

Kyter took one last deep breath and started down the hill, his step faltering as he approached the village. The hill was more a part of him than the village had ever been. He had spent most of his life up on it, looking down on the village, watching from a distance as ceremonies took place. Especially when they were mating ceremonies.

He never could bear being in the village for those. They only reminded him that he would never have such a thing.

There was no fated mate for him out there.

Now he had to take part in the worst ceremony of all.

He entered the boundaries of the village and kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, on the main building and the people gathered there. The acrid scent of smoke still filled the air, reminding him that only a week had passed since the attack on his kin. A week ago, she had been alive and now she was dead.

Murdered.

Had she been afraid? Had she tried to fight or escape? Had she begged for mercy? For her life?

What had he been doing?

Laughing over a glass of Hellfire in his bar with a pretty little mortal female who had been trying to get his attention all night.

She had been fighting for her life, and he had been laughing while it happened.

Tears burned his eyes and he scrubbed them away, refusing to let them fall. He should have been here. He never should have left.

He reached the edge of the gathered and all eyes turned to him, a hush falling over the village. He ignored them and averted his gaze to the earth, shutting out the pointed looks and the silent accusations that pressed down on his already trembling shoulders.

Kyter glanced at the lead elder of the pride, a tall slender male with short greying hair, and caught the coldness in his golden gaze. More ice than usual.

It had been a long time since Kyter had left this place behind, but he hadn’t forgotten the hostility of his pride. He could never forget. They had made sure of that. His back burned, each laceration feeling as if it had only just happened. The lash of the whip rang in his ears. His own pitiful cries followed it.

He closed his eyes against the memories and turned away from the older male.

The gathered parted for him, which was more than he had expected from them, and he swallowed hard, his throat tightening by degrees as he lifted his head and approached the dead.

Males. Females. Children. All laid out in rows. They numbered in their twenties. Almost half of the pride, and all of their strongest males. Their finest warriors.

Kyter looked at one of them and stopped dead as a vision of the male as a boy filled his mind. A violent collision of fear and hope flooded Kyter’s heart as he stood before the boy, eye-level with him, and the boy pointed at him. The big elder male beside him signalled to two other adult males. Kyter backed away, shaking his head. They clamped strong hands down on his arms and dragged him across the square in front of everyone.

To the column.

The sound of females sobbing yanked him back to the present and he breathed again, his hands shaking as his heart thundered against his ribs.

Kyter stared blankly at the women off to his right, the village of old disappearing to reveal them to him as they clutched each other, consoled by their shared grief and bonded by it.

He flexed his fingers, filled with a need to tell them that he was sorry for their loss, even when he knew that they wouldn’t listen to a word he had to say. They would only look upon him with scorn and disgust.

He hadn’t come for them anyway.

He had learned long ago not to give a damn about them, because they didn’t give a damn about him.

He had come here for one person.

Kyter’s eyes shifted to a small form on a pyre off to the left of the square, her body laid apart from the others and covered only in a piece of pale cloth. Ice and fire speared his chest, freezing and burning his heart at the same time. His throat clogged. Tears stung his eyes.

Not only born of grief.

They were born of fury too. Anger that even in death they were punishing her and holding her away from them, when she had loved them all so dearly. All because she had made a mistake. Duped by a male.

A growl curled up his throat, his anger growing as he realised that they blamed her for what had happened to the pride.

He knew they blamed him. They always blamed him.

The product of her mistake.

He slowly walked towards her, his eyes locked on her, his heart labouring in his chest. His legs shook with each step, his strength leaving him as he drew closer to her, and then gave out when he saw her bruised and lacerated face.

His beautiful mother.

He collapsed to his knees beside her and pulled her cold body into his arms, gently lifting the top half from the palm leaves. Her scent filled his senses and he gathered her against him, buried his face in her throat and cried out the grief ripping him apart inside. Tears spilled in an unstoppable flow as he breathed in her scent with each ragged inhale. He shook to his core and clutched her closer, unable to stop the words from spinning around his mind, damning him.

She had been fighting for her life.

He had been laughing.

Kyter rocked with her, with each hard sob that racked his body, and growled against her mottled skin.

“I should have made you come with me. I shouldn’t have left you behind.”

He chuffed, the low coughing sound that begged for reassurance and comfort reverberating in his throat, but she didn’t answer him.

She would never answer him again.

Hunted by a Jaguar is available from Amazon Kindle, Kobo Books, Barnes and Noble Nook, Apple iBooks stores and other retailers. Also available in paperback.

Author Bio

Felicity Heaton is a New York Times and USA Today international best-selling author writing passionate paranormal romance books. In her books, she creates detailed worlds, twisting plots, mind-blowing action, intense emotion and heart-stopping romances with leading men that vary from dark deadly vampires to sexy shape-shifters and wicked werewolves, to sinful angels and hot demons! If you’re a fan of paranormal romance authors Lara Adrian, J R Ward, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Gena Showalter and Christine Feehan then you will enjoy her books too.

If you love your angels a little dark and wicked, the best-selling Her Angel series is for you. If you like strong, powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm series or any of her stand-alone vampire romance books. If you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate and erotic then try the best-selling Vampire Erotic Theatre series. Or if you prefer huge detailed worlds filled with hot-blooded alpha males in every species, from elves to demons to dragons to shifters and angels, then take a look at the new Eternal Mates series.

If you want to know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:

After the meteorite wiped out civilization and most of the population, it took thirty years to scrabble together rudiments of society again. Sex is the main currency, for those who haven’t mutated special abilities.

Bethany, a Tech, is able to channel electricity through her body and charge up electronics. When she saves a Shifter girl about to be sold at auction, the girl’s brother, Lucas, offers to repay the debt with his body. While Bethany would love to have Lucas at her beck and call, she’d rather have sex with someone who wanted her as a partner instead of an obligation. But unable to resist the sexy Shifter, she agrees to his terms.

When an opportunity presents itself to travel cross the ravaged countryside to loot the remains of California, Bethany believes this is the best chance for her to find her own brother, a rogue Shifter on the run for a crime he didn’t commit. Lucas wants to go, too, to free his Shifter pack.

The caravan members are expected to provide sexual services to the owners in exchange for passage out and back. As the lines between pleasure and payment become blurred, Bethany struggles to remain human while the pull of the energy feels good enough to leave her meat sack body behind. Can Lucas learn to ground her against the shifting currents?

Bethany Macgregor searched the airwaves until she found a funeral dirge that was used hundreds of years before the meteorite hit. She let the heavy organ music wash over her through her tiny headphones. Keith was getting married today. Leaning against the wooden post, she felt the crisp air like a sympathetic caress on her face and neck. She focused on the livestock being sold in the pen across from her and let the smell of nature take her mind off her loneliness.

“Shouldn’t you be over at the looters’ tents?” Maya, her tribe’s chief, walked up to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

Bethany tried not to flinch, and Maya removed her hand. Bethany sighed, popped out an earbud for politeness’ sake. “I did a quick walk by. There’s nothing that can’t wait until the last day of conclave when the prices drop because the dealer doesn’t want to pack it up for the long schlep back home.” And because the silence was starting to get awkward, Bethany added, “Shouldn’t you be attending some back-slapping meeting in the main cabin?” Or having a “massage” in your cabin with someone who wanted a favor?

Maya snorted. “Backstabbing, you mean. No, we’re on our morning break. And I decided to breathe in the fresh smell of horse manure to clear my lungs.”

Bethany managed a wry smile. Maya was fifty years old and the oldest one in their tribe on the bluff. She had been twenty-one when the meteorite hit the world and knocked everyone back to the Jurassic period. Well, probably better than the Jurassic period. Then, all the dinosaurs had died whereas this time a few tough humans and animals survived. And of course the cockroaches, but Bethany hadn’t seen one of those since she left the part of Florida that was still above water to go up north where the Tech was strongest. Maya had gathered together the Bluff tribe with a shrewd sense of purpose and snapped Bethany up as soon as she entered the territory.

“Keith’s doing a good thing. We need another potter since we lost Angie to the Three Rivers tribe last year,” Maya said.

Bethany nodded. It was important to have the right mixture of artisans, farmers, and tradesmen to survive in today’s world.

“Lem has volunteered to share your bed, if you’re interested.”

Bethany’s stomach curled. Lem had already made that offer, and it was apparent he was only doing what Maya told him to do. Trying to keep the anger out of her voice, Bethany said, “I’m not going to switch tribes over Keith’s marriage. The Bluffs are my home. You can tell Lem he’s off the hook.”

“It’s not like that,” Maya said but cut off when Bethany turned away and put the earbud back in.

The wind picked up a bit, and stray bits of energy lit up the portable media player in her hand. Pain jabbed into her temple, like a screwdriver had been jammed into it. Bethany exhaled through the agony that turned her vision red, and pressed the center button on the device. Maya watched fascinated, as always, when the menu came up, and Bethany scrolled down to Alanis Morrisette’s “You Oughta Know.”

“Just don’t go flaunting that Tech. You don’t have to be willing if another tribe gets it in their mind to snatch you from us.”

Bethany just turned the music up loud to match the pounding in her head that channeling the energy to run the device gave her. Maya went away after one last longing look at the portable media player. Letting the angry song fill her, Bethany rolled her neck to get the kinks out of it and sat down with her eyes closed, helping her body deal with the intensity of pulling in the energy. If she had done it gradually, the pain wouldn’t have been that wretched, but she didn’t want easy or slow. The pain was cleansing, wiping away a little of the self-pity she was feeling. When the song was over, Bethany let the energy go with a sigh and a silent thanks. Getting up, she felt eyes on her, and she looked around. The tribes were socializing, chattering happily about the things they were going to trade.

She lovingly put the portable media player back into her pocket. She had traded a looter her ham radio setup for it. Bethany didn’t like hearing all the voices crying out in the darkness. Although on cold, lonely nights it was a comfort to realize the world was still going on and her tribe wasn’t the last people on Earth. Most of California and Florida had sunk into the oceans. Mount St. Helens and all of the Alaskan volcanoes had erupted, adding to the chaos. In a second after the meteor hit in Russia, worldwide communications dropped. If Europe was even still there, no one on this side of the Atlantic knew. There hadn’t been any contact outside the United States for the past thirty years. There were rumors, but nothing verified. And in the interim, strange and different creatures evolved. Bethany was one of them.

“You look lovely.”

Bethany glanced up at Keith’s voice, but he wasn’t talking to her. She watched her ex-lover, tall and handsome in a rough-and-ready sort of way, lean down and kiss his almost-bride on the cheek. They were strolling around the market, hand in hand, not a care in the world.

Darting into a tent, Bethany clenched her teeth as sharp jealousy drilled into her. It didn’t have the purity of the energy pull. It was aching like a bad tooth. She willed herself not to cry. It should have just been a marriage of convenience. A way to bring the River tribe and the Bluff tribe together. Keith had told her so. In bed. Several times. It didn’t look like it was convenient. In fact, it looked a lot like love. Bethany listened to the vendor’s spiel since he was kind enough not to notice her bright eyes or quivering lips. She was so grateful for the time it gave her to pull it together that she wound up trading a set of charged batteries for one of his canteens filled with a sweet honey mead before leaving his tent.

Blinking the tears away, she pretended they were from looking up at the sun that was muted from the ash still in the atmosphere. A flutter of wings caught her eye. A brown eagle perched on the tree next to her. It looked at her like she was a mouse. Intelligent yellow eyes regarded her intently. It was a magnificent bird, beautiful feathers and a regal look. Big too, she saw as it spread its wings and folded them back to preen. Bethany bowed her head, feeling ridiculous at her awe of the noble bird who continued to survive in such a desolate world. It would have been born amid the chaos, like she had been.

Today wasn’t the first time she had seen it. Or at least one that looked just like it. Up on the bluffs, she’d sensed eyes on her and looked around only to see an eagle observing silently. She had gotten used to it, tried to tempt it closer with bits of meat, but it disdained her attempts at domestication. Still, when she walked in the woods, the bird wasn’t ever far. Not for the first time, Bethany wondered if it was a Shifter. She had given it plenty of time to shift in front of her, often dillydallying in the brush far from camp, hoping the bird would transform.

The truth was she had been lonely even when she and Keith were together. The tribe needed her, wanted the Tech she could provide. But they never fully accepted her because she wasn’t normal. Dinners were a stilted affair, and social events strained, so Bethany learned just to avoid them. Walking alone in the woods, she pretended the animals in the woods were companions, like she had done when she was a little girl. It was a game her brother, Daniel, had taught her, before he went feral and killed all those people.

“I’ve got to stop this, or I’ll be a sniveling wreck,” she told the bird, but the eagle wasn’t looking at her. She followed its inscrutable golden eyes to the next animal up for auction.

About the Author:

Lissa Trevor has her stilettos firmly entrenched in the romance community. Spank Me Mr. Darcy is her debut novel from Riverdale Avenue Books. She is a frequent reader at Manhattan’s Between The Covers events, where her novellas Wild Oats and Timelash from Coliloquy’s Entwined volumes 1 & 2 have been very popular. Lissa also created an erotic story template for Coliloquy’s ValEntwined promotion that allowed readers to download a personalized ebook starring themselves and their significant other.

Finding one’s psi-mate is something every Sandarian hopes for, but when Ian Cavacent accidentally starts the bonding process with the Earthling, Dani, he has to fight his desire with every ounce of his being. If the process is completed, it would be both political and financial suicide for Ian and his family.

A natural klutz, Dani somehow always manages to land on her feet and win those mixed martial arts matches she’s so fond of. At home on Cat Island her balance is thrown when bazillionaire Ian takes notice.

Unfortunately some butt-ugly Torog aliens also take notice sending her life spiraling out of control and into Ian’s arms. But Dani isn’t the type of woman to let some alien voodoo decide her future or her mate…no matter how gorgeous the man is or how much pleasure he gives her.

For centuries the Cavacents have mined Earth for a precious element, carnium, while protecting the planet from other alien species.

Thanks to the Torogs, Dani and Ian must flee to Sandaria. As Dani learns to use her newfound psi powers, the empire crumbles around them.

Will their love be strong enough to keep them alive and get them back to Earth?

Waves of pleasure radiated out from his touch. She looked up into his eyes. They truly were the greenest eyes she’d ever seen and as she watched, they began to glow.

Oh, shit. Dani took a slow, shaky breath. She stood in the arms of an alien and this was the point of no return. Did she want to return?

His thumb brushed her lower lip.

The heat in her grew.

“Dani?”

Her name was a rumbling growl that reverberated deep inside. She tingled everywhere.

He leaned forward, his mouth brushed her ear. “I’ll leave if you want me to, just say the word.”

He kissed her neck, tentatively, questioningly. The heat of his lips melted any resolve she may have harbored. The thought of him leaving her now, in this state, was unbearable. Aroused on every level, she reached her arms around his neck and pressed against him.

This must be a dream. She moaned as he nipped his way down her neck causing little sparks of pain. Her entire body rippled with the effect. If I wake up now, I’m killing the person responsible.

About the Author:

Geek. Mother of teens. Wife to her very own alien.

Lover of sun, sand, science, and the stars.

Sabine lives in Florida with her husband, kids, cats and whole mess of characters in her head.

Pool of Crimson (The Blushing Death #1) by Suzanne M. Sabol

Genre: Urban Fantasy

ISBN:978-1-61935-112-7

Book Length: 234 pages

Publisher: Soul Mate Publishing

Description

Killing vampires is easy. Trusting one will be the hardest thing Dahlia Sabin has ever done.

Dahlia has lived a lonely existence as a killer of the undead. Known as The Blushing Death to those that fear her, Dahlia uncovers a plot by Columbus’s Master Vampire, Ethan. He intends to raise a demon from the depths of hell to destroy the city, cement his power, and take control.

In her pursuit to stop a demon from manifesting, Dahlia sinks deeper into the city’s supernatural underworld and discovers that vampires are not only deadly; one in particular could be dangerous to her very soul and her heart. Patrick, the Master vampire’s second-in-command with dark penetrating eyes and a cool, deadly sophistication, can’t stay away and Dahlia can’t tell him no. There’s something that neither of them knows, Ethan wants Dahlia’s unleashed power for himself and is willing to do anything to get it.

Dahlia is in a race against time to send the demon back to hell, at war with her better judgment, trusting a dark and intriguing vampire with his own agenda, while struggling to save her own neck. As the portal to hell opens, Dahlia has only herself to rely on in order to survive, if she can . . .

Also be sure to check out more action in the second book of the series with Dahlia Sabin, MIDNIGHT ASH.

About the Author

Suzanne M. Sabol is the author of Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance. She has been writing from the age of 16 when she finished her first full-length novel. Suzanne M. Sabol graduated from The Ohio State University, majoring in Criminology, International Studies, Russian, and Political Science. She currently lives in Columbus Ohio with her husband and works as a Human Resources Professional and Fiscal Officer.

Please welcome Sky Purington to VampireRomanceBooks.com. She is our guest blogger today and is here to promote the fourth book of The MacLomain Series titled Faith of the Highlander.

Thanks so much for featuring Faith of the Highlander. As the fourth novel in the ongoing MacLomain Series: Next Generation, this particular tale was a unique one to write. Why? Well, it was the first time I tackled not only a hero but heroine who had long suffered mental abuse. Grant at the hands of his master and chieftain, Keir Hamilton and modern day, Sheila, via her ex-boyfriend.

While Sheila has been a constant secondary character through the series, we first meet Grant in book two, Vow of the Highlander but only briefly. Then he again comes on scene near the end of the third book, Wrath of the Highlander. That’s when we learn there’s more to him than meets the eye.

So as I dug into Faith of the Highlander, I already had a good idea of what to expect from my characters. Though both had suffered abuse, they were not weakened but strengthened by their pasts. Grant, more powerful in magic than most and trained to be a warrior from a young age, would have an alpha personality with an unexpected compassionate side. Sheila, though more submissive due to a repressed past, would gain confidence as she once more recognized her self-worth.

Even though I thought I’d figured out the character development between Grant and Sheila, they still managed to surprise me. While Grant certainly had bitterness towards many, he was far more capable of forgiveness than I ever could have hoped. I think it was through that forgiveness that he was better able to stay focused on all he strove to accomplish. And his goals were many. He needed to save Torra and through her his clan, free those enslaved by Keir and try to reforge the bonds lost with his MacLomain kin. As it turned out, his goals were shared by Sheila. Together as they worked toward a similar outcome, they were thrust into a position in which they helped one another heal.

I have to admit that despite seventeen previous publications, Grant and Sheila are amongst my favorite couples. Theirs was an emotional journey that I won’t soon forget. As such, both earned a strong secondary role in the final book in The Next Generation, Plight of the Highlander.

Faith of the Highlander

The MacLomain Series

Next Generation: Book 4

Sky Purington

Genre: Time Travel Fantasy Romance

Date of Publication: September 12, 2014

ISBN:

ASIN: B00MQHVIDS

Number of pages: 254

Word Count: 76,000

Cover Artist: Tamra Westberry

Book Description:

Like her cousins, Sheila wears a Claddagh ring meant to connect her Broun lineage with the MacLomain clan. Already having witnessed the strife ravaging the medieval Scottish highlands she’s eager to once more be thrust back in time…even if it’s into the arms of the enemy.

Imprisoned fourteen winters and now first-in-command of the enemy’s army, Grant MacLomain must find a way to save all those he cares for. Though under the watchful eye of his master and chieftain, Keir Hamilton, he unleashes his plan the moment he connects with a lass from the future.

Through hardship, forgiveness and even acceptance, Grant and Sheila struggle to push past their abused hearts and the war that divides them in, Faith of the Highlander.

Available Now- Mark of the Highlander (Book 1), Vow of the Highlander (Book 2) and Wrath of the Highlander (Book 3). Coming Soon- Plight of the Highlander (Book 5).

Also available: The MacLomain Series- Early Years (Books 1-3 available in a boxed set) and the original MacLomain Series (Books 1-4 available in a boxed set).

Sheila started to tremble when he broke free from the last of whatever or whoever had imprisoned him. A shiver raced through her and she knew.

Grant had just broken free from Keir Hamilton’s mental hold over him.

He tore off his tunic and whipped it aside. With nothing but the Hamilton’s plaid hung low on his waist, he was an impressive sight. Legs braced, arms by his side, fists clenched, he closed his eyes. Cast in the soft, flickering glow of a single sputtering torch, sweat slicked muscles rippled down his long warrior’s body. Was he praying? Long moments passed. Every one of them a lifetime as her heart thundered. Then, as if replacing one swift divine moment with another, his eyes snapped open and met hers.

It felt like a freight train hit her.

“Och, my wee geal,” he whispered.

Wee what?

Sheila made to speak but the words died on her lips when in two swift strides, he pulled her into his arms. The word ‘wee’ seemed a massive understatement when up against him. Though she was fairly tall at five foot seven, he had to be a foot taller. Lord, she felt tiny! What had been but a tremble became a harsh fiery heat that whiplashed through her body. Emotional state and sensory awareness in overdrive, she put her hands against his hard chest.

“Oh, I shouldn’t have done that,” she murmured. But she didn’t pull her hands away.

No, if anything, she pressed tighter and curled her fingers slightly. It was one thing to meet a man in your mind, another thing entirely to feel him pressed up against your body. When he tilted up her chin, her eyes slid shut. Why, she’d never know. She supposed somewhere deep inside she wasn’t ready to look too closely into his eyes.

But why?

Perhaps she was afraid of what she’d see there. Perhaps though he seemed so strong she’d see years of mental abuse flicker in his gaze. Mental abuse inflicted by Keir being twisted within his mind for so long. The very idea of it made her sick to her stomach.

But none of that mattered when she felt his warm breath whisper over her lips. Close, so very close. She could all but feel his mouth hovering over hers. Time slowed as her lips fell open. Sensation heightened. A slow burn covered her cheeks. An ever so slight throbbing began first on the sides of her neck as emotion welled. Her heart pounded so strongly that her lips pulsed, ready for the pressure, the weight of his mouth against hers.

About the Author:

Sky Purington is the best-selling author of eleven novels and several novellas. A New Englander born and bred, Sky was raised hearing stories of folklore, myth and legend. When combined with a love for nature, romance and time-travel, elements from the stories of her youth found release in her books.

Purington loves to hear from readers and can be contacted at Sky@SkyPurington.com

Interested in keeping up with Sky’s latest news and releases? Visit Sky’s website, http://www.skypurington.com to download her free App on iTunes and Android or sign up for her quarterly newsletter.

VampireRomanceBooks.com wants to thank you for joining the release tour for My Viking Vampire by Krystal Shannan. Enjoy the blurb, excerpt, Krystal’s bio, and don’t forget about to enter the Rafflecopter giveaway!

My Viking Vampire

Sanctuary, Texas

by

Krystal Shannan

Bailey Ross’ world is crumbling around her. Her abusive ex, a human, is closing in on her again, and to make matters worse, a new enemy, a djinn, is stalking her. This supernatural being takes great pleasure in human pain, something Bailey has in excess thanks to her ex. If she’s caught by either, she’s as good as dead.

Backed into a corner and desperate to escape, she does something she swore wouldn’t ever be possible again –trusting a man. And he’s a vampire.

Protection via the sexy vampire Erick Thorson may prove to be a little more than she bargained for. Sparks fly between them and she finds herself agreeing to more than just protection. Though he has promised not to let anyone harm her, the small west Texas town is more than it seems and he may not be able to make good on his vow no matter how hard he tries.

Will Sanctuary be the home Bailey longs for or will she have to die to find out?

I gulped. It wasn’t a question and I didn’t hesitate. I twisted my body and lifted my leg over his lap, situating myself across his thighs. I wiggled a little to get comfortable.

He grabbed my hips and pulled me closer, grinding my sex against his hard length. My body throbbed and my panties were soaked in seconds. Taking a deep breath, I focused on slowing my racing heart and trembling body. What I thought would be an uncomfortable bite and awkward aftermath had turned into something completely different.

Fire licked at my belly and I swayed my hips, allowing his hands to guide the movement. Another growl rumbled from his chest. His hands abandoned my waist and slid upward, grazing my breasts and then over my shoulders. He cupped each side of my face and pulled me closer, kissing me slowly. His tongue grazed first my top lip then my bottom, then plunged between them, sweeping inside. It was euphoric. He tasted sweet and I opened further for him.

My gesture did not go unnoticed and I received an encouraging gravelly moan as a reward. He sucked and nipped at my lips again before trailing his kisses slowly across my jaw and down the side of my neck below my ear. His right hand caressed the nape of my neck and grasped the base of the loose braid of my hair. He pulled my head gently to the side, further exposing my neck and collarbone to his hungry mouth.

My heart raced again. The bite had to be coming soon. I leaned into his kisses, pushing my neck closer. Something had changed in my mind. I no longer feared the bite. Instead, I desperately wanted it.

Meet the Author:

Krystal Shannan goes to sleep every night dreaming of mythical realms with werewolves, vampires, fae, and dragons. Occasional a fabulous, completely human story slips into the mix, but powers and abilities usually crop up without fail, twisting reality into whatever her mind can conceive.

As a child, her parents encouraged her interests in Ancient Greek and Roman mythology and all things historical and magickal. As an adult the interests only grew. She is a child of Neverland and refuses to ever stop believing in fairies.

She is guilty of indulging and being a Buffy the Vampire Slayer groupie as well as an Angel fan. For those of you unfamiliar with the world of Joss Whedon, you are missing out! She also makes sure to watch as many action and adventure movies as possible. The more exciting the better. Yippee-Ki-Yay….. If you don’t know the end of that phrase, then you probably don’t like the same movies.

She writes stories full of action, snark, magick, and heart-felt emotion. If you are looking for leisurely paced sweet romance, her books are probably not for you. But, for those looking for a magical ride, filled with adventure, passion, and just a hint of humor. Welcome home.

An old family secret draws Ribbon into an Elven world while Draven is forced to find a way to drag her back home to save Christmas magic.

Book 2~ Tempting Clover

Breaking a goblin’s curse is more difficult than Clover thought. Especially when love and nightshade are crucial ingredients.

Book 3~ Steele Your Soul

Stolen souls, an evil drow elf, a dark eyed beauty named Pepper, and a king who doesn’t take kindly to the loss of his goods…Captain Joren Steele has his hands full.

Book 4~ A Hint of Cayenne

Two bounty hunting elves must put aside their attraction to each other when a malevolent fairy comes up for grabs. Cayenne and Hawthorne both need the twenty gold reward, but only one can walk away with it.

Book 5~ A Whisper of Rue

When a package magically shows up in Rue’s home, she’ll have two choices. Either do as Gage demands, or standby as an elf is tortured.

“You’re already wet. I could claim you. Didn’t you say you wanted to have an orgasm, that it was torture?” Malik’s words came out low and sinister. Clover suddenly regretted ever wanting an orgasm, or at least telling him so.

She held her breath. Oh God. He’s going to take me. Clover fought harder and he let her break away. His laughter filled the air between them. Her chest heaved with fear, her breath coming in hard gasps.

“However, it wouldn’t satisfy me little morsel. You could never please me properly.” He walked past her laughing as he went to his lab to make more human potions.

Steele Your Soul:

He coaxed her lips apart for the briefest of moments before her hand came up and landed a stinging blow to his cheek. Amused, Joren laughed, a full belly laugh. The kind of thing he hadn’t done in ages. The lass was a feisty one; he’d give her credit. And oh so pretty when angered. Her cheeks had flushed a dark shade of pink, and her brown eyes darted all over the ship, anywhere but on his. He rubbed his cheek. She had a solid swing. He licked his lips to savor the sweet taste of her mouth.

“How dare you!”

“How dare I? Oh, elfess, I dare all the damn time. I’m a pirate.” He wanted to scoop her up and haul her off to his bed. But he wasn’t the kind of elf who took advantage in such a way—no, she’d come to him instead. He might even play hard to get. But she would come.

A Hint of Cayenne:

Hawthorn stood before her. Dark hooded eyes, broad shoulders filling up the space, and every bit the male she had seen a few hours ago. A jar of honey in his hand.

“What are you…how could––”

“I find you?” His voice rolled out calm and deep, slipping over her and moistening her panties.

“Yes. Find me.” She swallowed. She looked at the jar of honey and back to him. His gaze bore into hers, and she averted her eyes opening the door. “Come in.”

He walked over the threshold, his boots thumping softly on the floor. “I have a knack for finding the things I’m after.” He grinned.

Cocky bastard. She shut the door and crossed her arms. “And what are you doing here?” Inside, butterflies tossed in her stomach. She wanted him to say he’d come for her but, at the same time, was terrified at the thought of hearing him say it. Her mind jumped from one side to the other. Her hands fisted shirt where he couldn’t see.

“I told you I’d find you.” He took one long stride toward her. “We left things a little…” He took another step, and she backed up until she hit the wall. “Steamy.” His voice dropped so low she barely heard the last word. Her heart hammered at her ribcage.

“What…ah.” She cleared her throat. “What do you want?”

Thorn put his free hand on the wall beside her, and she melted into him. How had he gotten so elfing good at teasing her? “I want you of course,” he said, his lips barely above hers.

A Whisper of Rue:

“Rue, you can call me every name in your pretty little head but it won’t change anything. Afraid you’re stuck with me, and your decisions will affect everything. But you’re stubborn and you won’t see things my way instantly. You’ll need proof. I understand. But don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he stated.

Proof of what? He was playing games with her and she wasn’t in the elfing mood. He had no right to come in her home. No right to make demands on her. No right to invade every inch of her privacy. She wanted the earpiece out. Why’d she have to get all curious and put the stupid thing in to begin with? Her mother always said her curiosity would lead her to trouble one day and Rue had the dreadful sense that today was that day. “I don’t know why you chose me to do whatever it is you need. Probably something horrible. But quit fucking around and remove the spell.”

“You want it removed?”

“Yes.” She hissed the word. Her anger bubbled inside threatening to tear her apart, mainly because she couldn’t see the man attempting to control her.

“Then come and find me.”

About the Author:

An elfess in human form, Decadent enjoys dipping her fingers into the human realm where she took pen to paper and began the tales of the trouble with elves. Her obsessions include reading, Dean Winchester, and honey.

She will devour your soul with glimpses of the feral ridden drow elves, with their dark skin and soul consuming. She’ll sneak morsels of naughty thoughts to you via goblins, and seduce you into stepping inside the elven realm where females disappear when lust takes over among other elfish troubles.